Total Perspective Vortex
What really happened to Trillian? Theories abound, but you can see what she's really been up to on this blog. If you're looking for white mice, depressed robots, or the occasional Pan Galactic Gargleblaster you might be better served here:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/cult/hitchhikers/guide/.

Otherwise, hello, and welcome.
Mail Trillian here<





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Women, The Internet and You: Tips for Men Who Use Online Dating Sites
Part I, Your Profile and Email

Part II, Selecting a Potential Date

Part III, Your First Date!

Part IV, After the First Date. Now What?


"50 First Dates"






Don't just sit there angry and ranting, do something constructive.
In the words of Patti Smith (all hail Sister Patti): People have the power.
Contact your elected officials.

Don't be passive = get involved = make a difference.
Find Federal Officials
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or Search by State

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Contact The Media
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Words are cool.
The English language is complex, stupid, illogical, confounding, brilliant, beautiful, and fascinating.
Every now and then a word presents itself that typifies all the maddeningly gorgeousness of language. They're the words that give you pause for thought. "Who came up with that word? That's an interesting string of letters." Their beauty doesn't lie in their definition (although that can play a role). It's also not in their onomatopoeia, though that, too, can play a role. Their beauty is in the way their letters combine - the visual poetry of words - and/or the way they sound when spoken. We talk a lot about music we like to hear and art we like to see, so let's all hail the unsung heroes of communication, poetry and life: Words.
Here are some I like. (Not because of their definition.)

Quasar
Hyperbole
Amenable
Taciturn
Ennui
Prophetic
Tawdry
Hubris
Ethereal
Syzygy
Umbrageous
Twerp
Sluice
Omnipotent
Sanctuary
Malevolent
Maelstrom
Luddite
Subterfuge
Akimbo
Hoosegow
Dodecahedron
Visceral
Soupçon
Truculent
Vitriol
Mercurial
Kerfuffle
Sangfroid




























 







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Highlights from the Archives. Some favorite Trillian moments.

Void, Of Course: Eliminating Expectations and Emotions for a Better Way of Life

200i: iPodyssey

Macs Are from Venus, Windows is from Mars Can a relationship survive across platform barriers?
Jerking Off

Get A Job

Office Church Ladies: A Fieldguide

'Cause I'm a Blonde

True? Honestly? I think not.

A Good Day AND Funyuns?

The Easter Boy

Relationship in the Dumpster

Wedding Dress 4 Sale, Never Worn

Got Friends? Are You Sure? Take This Test

What About Class? Take This Test

A Long Time Ago, in a Galaxy Far Far Away, There Was a Really Bad Movie

May Your Alchemical Process be Complete. Rob Roy Recipe

Good Thing She's Not in a Good Mood Very Often (We Knew it Wouldn't Last)

What Do I Have to Do to Put You in this Car Today?

Of Mice and Me (Killer Cat Strikes in Local Woman's Apartment)

Trillian: The Musical (The Holiday Special)

LA Woman (I Love (Hate) LA)

It is my Cultureth
...and it would suit-eth me kindly to speak-eth in such mannered tongue

Slanglish

It's a Little Bit Me, It's a Little Bit You
Blogging a Legacy for Future Generations


Parents Visiting? Use Trillian's Mantra!

Ghosts of Christmas Past: Mod Hair Ken

Caught Blogging by Mom, Boss or Other

2003 Holiday Sho-Lo/Mullet Awards

Crullers, The Beer Store and Other Saintly Places

Come on Out of that Doghouse! It's a Sunshine Day!

"...I had no idea our CEO is actually Paula Abdul in disguise."

Lap Dance of the Cripple

Of Muppets and American Idols
"I said happier place, not crappier place!"

Finally Off Crutches, Trillian is Emancipated

Payless? Trillian? Shoe Confessions

Reality Wednesday: Extremely Local Pub

Reality Wednesday: Backstage Staging Zone (The Sweater Blog)

The Night Secret Agent Man Shot My Dad

To Dream the Impossible Dream: The Office Karaoke Party

Trillian Flies Economy Class (Prisoner, Cell Block H)

Trillian Visits the Village of the Damned, Takes Drugs, Becomes Delusional and Blogs Her Brains Out

Trillian's Parents are Powerless

Striptease for Spiders: A PETA Charity Event (People for the Ethical Treatment of Arachnids)

What's Up with Trillian and the Richard Branson Worship?

"Screw the French and their politics, give me their cheese!"


















 
Mail Trillian here





Trillian's Guide to the Galaxy gives 5 stars to these places in the Universe:
So much more than fun with fonts, this is a daily dose of visual poetry set against a backdrop of historical trivia. (C'mon, how can you not love a site that notes Wolfman Jack's birthday?!)

CellStories

Alliance for the Great Lakes


Hot, so cool, so cool we're hot.

Ig Nobel Awards

And you think YOU have the worst bridesmaid dress?

Coolest Jewelry in the Universe here (trust Trillian, she knows)

Red Tango

If your boss is an idiot, click here.

Evil Cat Full of Loathing.

Wildlife Works

Detroit Cobras


The Beachwood Reporter is better than not all, but most sex.



Hey! Why not check out some great art and illustration while you're here? Please? It won't hurt and it's free.

Shag

Kii Arens

Tim Biskup

Jeff Soto

Jotto




Get Fuzzy Now!
If you're not getting fuzzy, you should be. All hail Darby Conley. Yes, he's part of the Syndicate. But he's cool.





Who or what is HWNMNBS: (He Whose Name Must Not Be Spoken) Trillian's ex-fiancé. "Issues? What issues?"







Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons License.


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Reading blogs at work? Click to escape to a suitable site!

Mamas, Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to be Smart Girls
(A Trillian de-composition, to the tune of Mamas, Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys)

Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains

Smart girls ain’t easy to love and they’re above playing games
And they’d rather read a book than subvert themselves
Kafka, Beethoven and foreign movies
And each night alone with her cat
And they won’t understand her and she won’t die young
She’ll probably just wither away

Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains

A smart girl loves creaky old libraries and lively debates
Exploring the world and art and witty reparteé
Men who don’t know her won’t like her and those who do
Sometimes won’t know how to take her
She’s rarely wrong but in desperation will play dumb
Because men hate that she’s always right

Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains





























Life(?) of Trillian
Single/Zero

 
Monday, August 01, 2005  
See Me, Feel Me, Touch Me, Heal Me

Okay. I’m getting some feedback on my new opposite of feeling coping mechanism.

It’s working for me. If it’s not your bag, I understand completely. You go along and enjoy your emotions. Be a normal, emotional person.

I did that, or endeavored to do that for a lot of years. It wasn’t working for me. I’m too emotional. Emotions are a problem for me. Not a challenge, a bona fide problem. They’re a problem because there are people whom I have given a lot of emotion. A lot. I was very well aware that I was giving them so much of myself, and I did it happily, readily and without question. That’s just how I am. I care about a person, they mean a lot to me, and I give all, or at least most of myself to them.

I have known this about myself for a long time and I’ve learned to be careful about whom I trust and whom I let get close enough to me for me to give myself over to them. Consequently I have a small group of people to whom I am very close, and then a lot of other people whom I keep at emotional arm’s length.

Men, in particular, have been on my “be careful” list. Only love can break your heart. It’s true. So, before I met HWNMNBS, I didn’t give my complete emotional self over to any boyfriend. Yes. This was probably a bad thing to do. And probably the cause of a lot of failed relationships. But. In hindsight, it is safe to say those relationships were going to fail anyway. And probably that's the reason I didn’t fully give myself over to them. And hey, it’s not as if they were giving themselves to me, either.

I reached a point when I had concerns that maybe I was unable to give myself fully emotionally over to any man. I thought I had trust issues. I thought I had issues in general. I blamed myself. I thought I was really bad at dating. And all of that was true. So I didn't want to date anyone, and I didn't. I tried to work on me and my issues. I landed in Chicago and worked on settling down. I never stayed in one place too long and therefore had no real connections to anyplace. I worked on making a life for myself in one place rather than picking up and leaving in search of adventure and a new and better place. And then I met HWNMNBS. And it seemed to all make sense. All of it. Everything. I just needed to meet the right man! It wasn’t me, all those years of bad dating, it was merely that I hadn’t met the right guy! I trusted him. I gave every emotion I had to give to him, plus a few I didn’t even know I had. I let him in and I was happy and thrilled to have him there. It felt good. I felt good. It felt like the way I thought it was supposed to feel.

And then he told me I wasn’t good enough for him. He needed more than what I could give him. I gave him everything I had to give and it wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t good enough.

That hurts. A lot. As you are probably well aware. Too much aware. Many of you think I should have just shut up and got over it a long time ago. And you’re right. I should have. But I couldn’t. And still can’t because of those pesky emotions. I still feel a lot for him. He’s still occupying a huge part of my emotional self.

I accept that he doesn’t want me. I accept that he wants and needs other things. I accept that I cannot give those to him. And I accept that I can’t feel anger or resentment for him. I accept that given the fact that I’ve tried everything to get angry or resentful and still can’t feel those things, that he’s in there, in my good graces, in that most sacred special love place, and he’s not budging. And naturally, as long as he’s there I will miss him. And naturally, as long as he’s there I’m in no shape to be trying to find someone new. I learned this the hard way. Those 38 dates were for the most part nightmares, but even though the men were, in many cases, bona fide jerks, I was also to blame for the lack of success.

What to do, what to do? I mean, I’m okay with being alone. I have some great friends and for the most part a great family. What more do I really need? I wanted a husband and children. But I only wanted it in the confines of a traditional, emotionally balanced, loving, caring, respectful, trusting sense. Oh yes, I had such high ideals and ideas for marriage. I didn’t think I could or would settle for anything less. I would not make a mockery of marriage. That’s just not me, that’s not how I am. Or was. But as long as I'm going to exist for what seems like a while, there are some basic comforts which would make existing a lot easier. Mainly: Money. Two incomes. Tax benefits of being married and owning real estate. A place to live should I live long enough to retire. Yes. I know. How cynical. How calculating. How unemotional.

Eh, whatever. I've been in love. In fact I'm in love. But unfortunately for me he has other needs and ideals which do not include me. Okay. So, I live the life of a spinster, in love with a guy who doesn't love me, eeking out a living on my own, maybe acquiring a lot of cats and quietly going insane. Or. I find a man in my same emotional and financial situation. We may be void of emotions, but at least we'd have each other and a comfortable place to, well, feel nothing. We can understand each other without trying to hide the fact that we feel nothing, or pretend that we feel something. And it would also end those sad looks and the questions and the pity of our friends and family concerning the state of our romantic lives. We can stare back at all those people who question or worry about why we are not married. "Married. See? Married. Now go away and stop taking bets as to the status of our sexuality, broken heart or mental abilities."

The society human has rules: People couple up. People get married. If a person doesn't get married, there's something wrong with them. And they get penalized financially. And I'm sick of this. A roommate won't work. I need a marriage. And I am certain there are men out there who have the same requirements.

I’m trying to explain this, bothering to explain this, by the way, because I think it might be useful to people who find themselves involved with people like how I am now.

I have not always been striving to be void of emotions. I have not always expected nothing, good or bad. I’ve seen both sides of the emotional fence I am finding, given all that’s brought me to this point, that I prefer the void of emotion side.

Someone felt that I was being untrue, even hypocritical to myself. If I am by nature an emotional person, why and how is it possible for me to be something I am not? Especially when we’re talking about something like emotions? Am I not really just another type of slanglish woman - someone trying to be something she is obviously not? How can I stand in criticism of her when I am guilty of the same thing?

True enough. Except.

I’m not critical of slanglish. I have no expectations of her, good or bad, high or low. Therefore I feel nothing for or about her trying to be something she is not. I merely observe and report. In its truest form, now. Unbiased and unfettered with emotions like loathing, contempt, disdain, disbelief, superiority, humor or joy. Certainly not criticism. I exist. She exists. Our paths cross at work. She asked about my mother. I bought her a book of poetry. Period. I have no expectations. I felt nothing.

And this, unlike my “natural” way of being emotionally responsive, is seeming like a much better way for me to be. I’ll say it again so those in the back of the class can hear: This is a way for me to cope with my existence. I tried the other way, the being true to yourself and feelings way, and it wasn’t exactly working out well for me. I got hurt, permanently scarred, and ultimately ended up alone anyway.

Nothing else worked, and this seems to be, so far, working better than anything I’ve tried. I’m sharing this with the class because I am certain at some point in your lives you have or will encounter someone like me. And I feel, yes, feel, duty bound to try to explain why it is we are this way. (See? It’s not cold and callous or apathetic. That’s a different sort of person altogether. I care enough and am responsible enough to bother to try to explain this state of being.) We’re not mean people. We’re not grouchy. We’re not cold. We’re not bad people. We’re people who discovered a way to deal with the rejection, disappointment, hurt and loneliness which follows us no matter where we go or what we do.

We are, I think, in fact, pretty darned good people. We don’t expect anything from anyone, good or bad. So we can’t judge. We can’t be angry or hurt or envious. We are responsible and well mannered enough to function as “normal” members of society. And unless you try to get emotionally close to us, you probably won’t think there’s anything different about us. If you’ve known us before and after our enlightenment, you might notice something different about us. You might think we’re depressed or beaten or sad and you might pity us. Please don’t. That’s the last thing we want. We’re not spending our emotions on you, so please, don’t give us any. You know how it feels when someone gives you a holiday gift and you haven’t got one for them? Yeah. Please don’t put us in that awkward position.

Don’t try to cheer us up, we’re not sad. We used to be sad, but now that we’re void of emotion. We’re only sad when something pulls us out of the void. So trying to cheer us up might actually have the opposite effect. You will make us think about why you’re trying to cheer us up which will make us think about how we got to this void of emotion place which will make us think about some pretty sad things and that will make us feel all the sadness, rejection and depression which caused all of this in the first place. Basically, when it comes to anything emotional, leave us alone. Mind your own business.

We’re not in denial, either. We know darned well why we’re doing this. We are all too aware of what’s happened. We had to accept it to want to try to change or cope with it. We know exactly what we are not feeling and what we’re missing. Believe me, the one thing we are not is in denial.

And really, don’t be sad for us. In order for us to have to want to get to this void of emotion place we had to experience a lot of emotions. Probably more than most people. That’s what got us to this place. Sort of like an alcoholic who one day says, “This isn’t fun anymore. Enough. No more.” and never drinks again. They had some good times when they drank, highs and lows, and probably have some interesting stories to tell. But enough is enough. That’s how us void of emotion people are. We crammed a lot of emotions into our lives. We’re passionate people. We do emotions in a big way. So we’ve experienced and felt a lot. Too much. And there’s a day when it’s just too much and it’s time to stop because our emotions are killing us. We feel too much and it makes daily existing difficult and sometimes impossible.

In my case, love tipped me over the balance. Well. Not love, but the rejection of love. I don’t regret that I love HWNMNBS in a big huge way. In fact, I’m quite proud of myself for allowing myself to love anyone like that in the first place. It was an emotional risk, a gamble, I played and I lost. I don’t regret it. I took the chance. And now I’ve got to sort out how to pay off the debt I got from losing. I know on many levels it’s stupid for me to still feel anything for him. But. I do love him. For emotional people, those big emotions, love, hate, joy and anger are difficult or even impossible to stop.

Besides, if everything goes the way it’s supposed to, you know, the way it does for most people, not stopping those emotions is the way it’s supposed to be. Think about it: Had everything worked out for HWNMNBS and I you would expect me to love him as much or more now as I did when we met. You would hold us up as a normal, successful couple. Just because he rejected me doesn’t mean that I can just say, “oh, okay then, no love for you. Next!” How great would that be? It would be great. I tried to that. I tried to feel that way. But it doesn’t work that way. At least not for me.

And why should it? I love him and expected him to love me and expected us to be together. I didn’t expect to have to live my life without him. I didn’t expect to have to not love him. And until he broke up with me, no one expected me to not love him. Everyone would have faulted me if I had. It seems ridiculous to me now to presume that I could, or should, just stop loving him, stop caring about him simply because he broke up with me. In fact it seems absurd and crazy to think I would be anything other than confused and hurt and sad for a very long time, if not my whole life. I trusted him. I respected him. I loved him. I thought he felt the same for me. We were going to be married. We agreed to vow to spend our lives together. It was therefore reasonable for me to expect that I would and should trust, love and respect him all of my life.

A ha. Expectations. They’ll really mess you up and do a number on your emotional well being. Eliminate expectations, and eliminate the emotions.

I’m going over this, again, for the greater good. I'm not publishing this because I think it's deeply profound or scintillating or even interesting. This is to shed some perspective on people you probably know. Don’t pity us. Don’t be angry with us. Don't fault us. Try to understand and try to respect people you know who may have found the same coping technique. You can have us this way, or, the alternative, is to have us rocking in the corner crying or staring blankly into space, on mind numbing drugs, drunk, or, well, not at all. After trying all of those options, this really is the best way for me. No drugs, no booze, none but occasional tears, and alive. I’ve felt a lot in my life, I’ve crammed a lot of emotion into my years, so really, I’m okay with this. I don’t need to feel any more. I merely need to exist so that I don’t hurt a few people.

From you, I get opinion
From you, I get the story

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11:44 AM

 
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